It Started With A Beginning
by LittlestWish
Summary: Okay, what I have here is beginnings to oneshots/stories I might eventually write, but it's also a response to Mackgirl's Character Challenge. All beginnings will most likely be under 500 words. Some slash eventually.
1. River Daphne Greengrass

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything you recognize. Thus, all characters are J.K Rowling's creation.**

**A/N: This is my Daphne story, obviously, anyways, if you have any suggestions of which characters I should use, feel free to tell me.**

River

Daphne Greengrass

Almost silent **sobs** were drowned out by the rush of the river. It seemed to cry along with her, agreeing with whispered words between racking sobs. Daphne Greengrass cried because a great injustice had been done to her, a great betrayal of trust. It is terrible when your sister turns on you. That Malfoy, that darling, beautiful Malfoy, had proposed to wonderful, do no wrong Astoria. The very same Astoria Rose Greengrass soon to be Malfoy that _knew_ about Daphne secret longing for that very same Malfoy. And now her sister was to marry him! She ran her fingers through the rushing water, thinking about how it would only take moments to get rid of this pain, how she could simply be done with this. But she couldn't. She rose, sniffed, and muttered, "I don't see how she got him, I am the pretty one!"

And she was, with beautiful blond curls that reached her waist, and big blue eyes. She was beautiful. And Astoria wasn't. How did she, of all people, get the man Daphne secretly loved?

She began to walk slowly back to the Malfoy Manor, where she had been to receive the horrible (or supposedly wonderful) announcement. She rubbed the last tears from her eyes, glad her face betrayed no sign of the hot tears she had shed. She slipped back in to the party unnoticed, and sought out Astoria and Draco. When she found them, she flung her arms around Astoria and kissed her on the cheek. "You couldn't have found better," She whispered, a fake smile plastered on her lips. "Congratulations."

Untangling herself, she turned to Draco, and embraced him. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and whispered, "Take care of her for me, Draco, she deserves the best."

It was then she realized, she didn't hate Astoria, she hated herself.

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**A/N: Next is most likely Tom Riddle Senior.**


	2. Brother George Weasley

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter. Or anything associated with Harry Potter**

"He was an excellent son, albeit mischievous, a wonderful brother, a young man with a great sense of humor," A man in drab clothing is saying, but George hears not a word.

Tears run down his face, staining his cheeks pink. His eyes are puffy and bloodshot, trained on the pale body of his twin, his brother. The man continues, and George manages to take his eyes from the body of his best friend to look at her mother. Her face is buried in a kerchief; she is shaking, and moaning.

They ask the immediate family to leave the room, for the closing of the casket. He gets up, unsteady on his legs, and gives a hand to his mother. His father has his arm around her, but when they leave the room, he gives the two some space. They took his the hardest, being the mother and twin of the lost. He flings his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. "Why'd they have to take him, "He whispers, "Why does this hurt so much?"

She has no answer. The man tells them that they can re-enter the room. He and his mother stay there, grieving the loss of a man who died too young, of son, a brother, a best friend.

* * *

Today George stands at the grave, looking at the words etched in the stone. His name, birth and death dates, and a legend bearing the words, 'We stood up to overthrow the evils of this world, and in the process, a man worthy of life was lost'. Tears stream down his face. He knows his brother isn't the only that died in that fight, that war that took too much, but he can't help but feel he has lost the most.

He lays the bouquet down by the others, the ones he knew his mother left, and turns his back to the grave. He shakes his head, and murmurs "I'm trying my best, Fred, I really am. I'm just not strong enough."

And he swears, he can hear, "Of course you are, you're my brother."

But the lingering trace of the voice he was only to familiar with, it must have just been his imagination.

His brother was gone, and there was nothing left on earth to change that.

* * *

**A/N: I know I said Tom Riddle Senior was next, but I had to write this one. It made me cry, sadly, but I suppose that's the point of it. Anyways, it was angsty and the next few will probably be as well.**


	3. Legs Cho Chang

**DISCLAIMER: Anything you recognize, is not mine. This all belongs to JK Rowling. No copy right infringment intended.**

Legs- Cho Chang

It was over. It was finally over. Harry Potter had defeated You-Know-Who. A smile stole over her face, despite the scene of despair around her. The smile was stolen, when she looked down, to the bodies laid carefully in a line. Tears ran down her face when she found she could name most of the people that lay on the ground, lifeless. This was unfair. How could those horrible people take so many lives? How many of those people were _children_?

Her eyes continued to look over the bodies, most of them had people crouched infront of them, mourning the lost of loved ones. Her eyes landed on the last still figure in the area. It was Marietta. She rubbed tears from her eyes, shocked more than upset. She hadn't known that as best friend could die. It was foolish to believe in the immortality of youth, she knew, especially after Cedric, but the shock of losing a best friend…

She turned on her heel, and ran. Her legs pumped, carrying her farther and farther away. She didn't care where she was, as long as she was away from that cold pale face, staring up at her in fright. The sound of her feet pounding on the ground was the only song she could hear, other than her breath coming in gasps.

This couldn't happen. It wasn't allowed to happen. Cho looked up, surprised to find that she was at the end of Hogsmeade. She hadn't thought she had ran that long, that far. The wind whipped through her hair, hitting her eyes, causing them to tear. She wasn't sure if the tears in her eyes were truly from the wind, or from the emotions she was keeping inside of herself. She continued running, until she was up in the mountains overlooking the small village.

She legs collapsed, and she lay in a heap, crying. Her entire body was shaking from the force of the sobs that ripped out of her, and her tears seemed never ending.

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**A/N: To my sole reviewer, thanks for your input**


	4. Coffee Hestia Jones

Coffee-Hestia Jones

Coffee- Hestia Jones

It was Halloween… A warm mug of coffee was cradled in her hands as the young woman sat in the corner of the room, her eyes trained on the floor. Her arms were wrapped around her knees, making it hard to sip the aromatic drink. Her curtain of dark hair fell around her face, hiding it from the view of all those across the room. It was almost impossible to tell if she was smiling or not. She placed her feet back on the floor and took a sip of the coffee. "It's good," She called to the older witch, her aunt Andrea.

Despite the warmth of the coffee, she still felt a chill, deep inside her. Sighing, she placed the mug on the table beside her. She stood up, and walked to the window. "What's wrong, Hestia, sweetheart?" Her aunt asked kindly.

Hestia started when her owl swooped down to the window sill, and waited for the window to be opened. While she did this, she murmured an noncommittal "Dunno" to her aunt, and allowed the owl to hop on her arm.

"Hullo, Chitter," She said, stroking her owl.

She untied the letter from her leg, and tossed the owl a treat.

"_Dear Hestia,_

_Wonderful news, You-Know-Who is dead! He's gone! Can you believe it? The bad part of the news, well… I'll tell you in person, but just a warning, you're not going to like what you hear… It concerns some of your friends. Come over quick_

_Love always,_

_Your sister,_

_Helen"_

A mixture of excitement, delight and a gnawing fear fought for dominance in her mind. This was delightful news. She ignored her fear and called out to her aunt. "He's dead! You-Know-Who is DEAD!" She giggled with happiness.

Her aunt smiled, and turned from what she was doing, to rush to Hestia's side and enveloped her in a hug. "That is…" She struggled to find the right word, and found she couldn't find the proper word to describe it.

"I have to go to Helen and Lucas'. She said. "They have more news. News they want to tell me in person."

She tried to smile because of the happy news, but finally, the sense of fear, despair, worry won her over. The battle of these emotions, left her breathless. "Somethings wrong. Something's terribly wrong." And she had no clue what that something was.


	5. Birthday Seamus Finnigan

**DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS PROPERTY OF JK ROWLING**

* * *

Birthday- Seamus Finnigan

On the morning of May 25th, 1997, one Seamus Finnigan woke to a large pile of presents at the foot of his bed, and the calls of 'Happy Seventeenth', from his friends. A smile could be found on his lips as he hastily opened presents. There was a watch from his mother, the traditional gift, and some other things, nothing to important. He was disappointed, when he found that there was no gift from his best friend.

After breakfast, he cornered his friend Dean in the common room. "Dean," He asked slowly, "If there was something I really wanted for my birthday, I should be able to get it, right?"

Dean nodded, and Seamus continued, "What if it was something I've wanted for a long time, and never had the chance to do—get, I mean."

"Sorry I didn't get you a present, mate," Dean said, though he was sure that this wasn't what Seamus was coming to, "Money a bit of a hard spot for my family right now…"

Seamus smiled, "Its fine," He insisted. "So, this thing, I have every right to it?"

Dean once again nodded confusion clear on his face. "So, you'll have no objections?" Seamus finished, moving to stand a little closer.

"'Course not," Dean replied, bewilderment in his voice.

He wasn't expecting to see Seamus get closer still, to place his lips hesitantly, gently on Dean's. Dean was taken by surprise, but he didn't pull away. The kiss was sweet, and gentle.

When Seamus ended the brief show of desire Dean stared at him, an odd expression on his face. "I never knew that was what you wanted for your birthday." Was all he managed to say.

Seamus looked at his feet, "You said you wouldn't have any objections," He said, in an almost whisper. "You said it'd be okay."

He was hurt by this rejection, and you could see it in the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. The next words he heard took him by surprise.

"It was."

**A/N This one is by far my favorite. They just seem to work so well together. I think I'm going to further developpe this one. Sorry to anyone that doesn't like slash... All I can say, is there's probably gonna be more in here somewhere.**


	6. Chiken Fleur Weasley nee Delacour

Chicken, Fleur Weasley (nee Delacour)

It was amazing the small things one could remember, Fleur mused, as she puttered around her and Bill's new home. They had chickens here. She could remember the time she had told Harry… what was it? 'Zhere's nuting to do 'ere unless you like chickens.' She said aloud as she remembered. A giggle escaped her pink lips as she shook her heads.

She had acquired a liking—tolerance, rather of chickens… With a baby on the way, Mrs Weasley and her mother had forced her to eat properly, and the chickens provided her protein supplements.

She sighed, patting her belly lightly as she bent down to pick up the pail of chicken feed. "Fleur! Let me help you with that. You know you're not supposed to lift things when you're this far along," Bill chided, rushing to her side.

Fleur grimaced, waving him away. "Eet's a pail of grain, Bill, I tink I can lift eet, I'll let you know eef I need any 'elp," She huffed, turning to the chicken coop.

She began to scoop grain from the pail and toss it on the ground, deaf to Bill's protests. When she finished she placed the pail next to the fence and turned to him, hands on her hips. "See, I'm not 'elpless. I tink even your muzzer would realize zat I can feed zhe chickens, and she does not tink I can do much." She said, with a glare to her husband.

"But Fleur, love, I just don't want you to over exert yourself. And my mother adores you! But fine, if you want, you can do the chores. If you need any help with anything, or if you want some tea…"

Fleur sighed shaking her head, and continued to glare, though there was a smile on her lips. "You Eenglish. You think zhe tea helps every tink. Eet does not, you know!"

Bill headed into the house to prepare her some tea, and she turned again to the chicken coop. Her smile widened, as she placed both her hands on her over stretched stomach. "Salut, ma bebe, je t'aime. Ces animaux le, elles sont des poulets, elles s'appellent Sabine, Cerise et Lili, et toi, tu s'appelle Victoire. Pourqoui? Parce-que notre amis, notre famille avais gagne la guerre contre les personnes tellemant mechant."

**A/N: Okay, sorry 'bout the choppy French… Well, it's not choppy but I can't get the accents on this computer… So, anyways, directly translated it reads; Hello my baby, I love you. Those animals there, they're chickens, they're named Sabine, Cerise and Lili, and you, your name is Victoire. Why? Because our friends, our family have won the war against some very evil people.**


End file.
